


First Impressions Can Only Be Made Once, You Know

by Invader_FanGirl



Category: COMMUNICATIONS - GHOST | GHOST and Pals (Song Cycle), GHOST | GHOST and Pals (Musician)
Genre: (Except for maybe a few of these idk), (characters are to be added as fanfic updates), Alternate Universe - Showbusiness, Attempt at Humor, Bad Jokes, Barely contained animosity, COLOR-TV AU, Crack AU, Drabble Collection, First Meetings, Gen, It's funny how not everyone likes each other, Name Shenanigans, PLEASE READ COLOR-TV BEFORE READING THIS FANFIC, Synesthesia occurances, Worldbuilding? Kinda, Writer Mode™, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25698637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Invader_FanGirl/pseuds/Invader_FanGirl
Summary: (Crackfic) A collection of drabbles in which the cast of the ever-popular TV show, "COLOR-TV," meet for the first time.{Please read my fanfic, "COLOR-TV," before reading this!}
Kudos: 8





	1. Christopher and Dizzy

“Whoa, I knew the circus was in town, but this is somethin’ else _entirely!”_

Christopher’s mood immediately soured.

Everyone knew that it was a necessity to become acquainted with those you would be working with. _Especially_ on a TV show. Kennith had made that very clear when he insisted that the entirety of the cast introduce themselves to one another. And it wasn’t as if Christopher was _inexperienced_ in this field; in fact, it was one of his strong suits. Being a self-proclaimed social butterfly, he happened to introduce himself to people all the time.

But, unfortunately, he did fall short in one vital social skill. And that was…

“Heeheehee. Get it? ‘Cause I’m a clown. And you look like that. With your weird makeup. Get it?”

…dealing with utterly _obnoxious_ people.

Frowning, Christopher put all of his effort into keeping his voice level. “For the sake of this interaction, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Not a fan of that one, huh?” the clown asked, putting on a fake frown that mirrored Christopher’s. Then just as quickly, she switched back to grinning. “Okay, then how about this: whoa, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

A pause.

“…Get it? Because you’re pale white? And you’re a ghost? And you do stuff with mirrors? _Do you get it?”_

Christopher narrowed his eyes. “Do you happen to have any jokes where you _don’t_ mock my appearance?”

“Hmm, I dunno…” Dizzy took a moment to hum loudly, sticking her tongue out the side of her mouth as if thinking were a tremendous effort. “I can’t make any baseball jokes because you don’t have your bat with you, so I’m _kinda_ limited with what I can say. Lemme think…”

While the clown pretended to mull it over, Christopher gritted his teeth in frustration. _Dear god, she’s somehow worse than Kennith,_ he realized, slightly amazed by that fact. _I wonder how she’ll do when it’s her episode. I hope the two of them end up destroying the set. With both of their attitudes, I’m willing to bet that **something** is bound to end up broken. Somehow._

He quickly cleared his throat to get her attention. “As much as I’d like to listen to more of your… _sparkling_ commentary,” Christopher spoke up, tone flat, “I think it would be best to just get introductions out of the way. My name is Christopher,” he said, offering a hand to shake even though he really, _really_ didn’t want to.

Dizzy blinked, staring at his hand for a second before reaching out to shake it. She snorted, apparently finding Christopher’s conflicted expression funny. “Just wanna get this over with, huh? That’s fine. I’m pretty tired of meeting people today, too. Be honest: you don’t like me at all, do you?”

Christopher smiled amicably. “Not one bit.”

Dizzy matched his smile. “Good to know! Well, my stage name is 'Dizzy the Clown,’ but you can call me Dizzy.”

“Alright then, Dizzy. Are you always this unpleasant?”

“Only when I think it’s funny. Can you not take a joke?”

“I can take _good_ jokes. Do you have any manners?”

“Maybe, but I think I left them at home with my ability to care. Do you _have_ to look like that?”

“Believe me, if I had a choice in the matter, I would have done something a long time ago.”

Dizzy tilted her head to the side, furrowing her brow. “Actually, now that I think about it, you kinda look like a mime.”

Christopher sighed irritably. “Noted. Now, may I make a request, Dizzy?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

Christopher then took the opportunity to grasp Dizzy’s hand painfully tight. He continued to wear a smile as he did so, the only thing betraying his true emotions in his expression being the dark look in his eyes.

_“Do **not** ridicule me again.”_

All of the mirth vanished from Dizzy in an instant, her cheeky grin twisting into a pained grimace as her hand was crushed. “O-Okay— _okay!_ Let go!!” she pleaded.

Christopher did so, folding his hands behind his back afterwards. He gave her a curt nod before turning to walk away. “Excellent. I hope we never have to speak to each other again. Best wishes on your episode, Dizzy.”

And that was that. Dizzy immediately brought her hand close to her chest, sucking a breath in through her teeth as she waited for the lingering pain to subside. Meanwhile, Christopher didn’t spare a glance behind him as he moved on to introduce himself to the next cast member.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment or send an ask to {veeeffvee.tumblr.com} for whoever you want to see meet next!
> 
> https://veeeffvee.tumblr.com/post/625380657480204288/send-in-two-color-tv-characters-as-in-ive


	2. Nancy and Dizzy

To say that Nancy was fond of color would be an understatement. With both her synesthesia and her love of sewing, Nancy had quite the eye (and ears) for all sorts of colors. Not that she found that trait to be particularly special to herself alone, of course. However, as silly as she considered it to be, she would admit that she had a deeper appreciation of color than most people.

Which was why, out of all of the chattering cast members around her, a particular clown stood out the most to Nancy at the moment. Her outfit was a delightful splash of color amongst the rest of the crowd, and understandably so, considering the hectic nature of her career. 

(Actually, now that she took another look around, why did everyone here seem to be wearing mainly grayscale clothing? That was strange. Nancy suddenly felt self-conscious about her primarily green attire. Sure, Kennith had a lot of color on his outfit, but that made sense; he’s the host of a show called “ _COLOR_ -TV.” Goodness, even _Henry_ could better blend in with the cast, since the green of his suit was more muted than that of her dress…)

Nancy shook her head from her nervous thoughts, coming back to reality. She felt sheepish for thinking such things. _I should really stop making a habit of worrying so much,_ she scolded herself mentally.

Taking a breath to steel herself, she approached the clown, extending her hand with a smile. “Hello there, my name is Nancy. It’s nice to meet you.”

Dizzy glanced up, her attention briefly drawn away from her own gloved hand (why was she so preoccupied with it?). “Uhh, hi!” she said, slightly startled. After an awkward moment of hesitation, she returned the gesture, shaking Nancy’s hand rather gingerly. “I’m Dizzy the Clown. You can call me Dizzy.”

Nancy chuckled politely. “Dizzy? That’s a funny name. Does your job involve spinning or tall heights?”

“Er, well, not all the time.” Dizzy averted her gaze as the subject of her job unfortunately came up. “Like, yeah, _sometimes_ I’ll have to hang onto something that spins around, and I can do trapeze and tightrope walking, but really, I just have a funny name because I’m a funny person!” she declared, her usual energy gradually coming back to her as she spoke.

Now, it was when Dizzy had perked back up as her usual self that Nancy noticed something. See, not only did her synesthesia allow her to see different colors according to what she was hearing, but the intensity of those colors differed from person to person. This was because everyone had their own way of speaking, regardless of the sound of their voice. So, simply put, volume and tone mattered very much when it came to the color of someone’s voice. 

And boy did Dizzy have _quite_ a lot of that.

As a result, Dizzy’s voice appeared to Nancy as a very bright yellow. Now, it wasn’t that Nancy had an aversion to bright colors (because if she did, she wouldn’t last in a conversation with Kennith, whose voice was bright orange). It was the _intensity_ of that color that jolted Nancy for a second. 

Imagine a flashlight turning on and off right in front of your eyes. Already unpleasant, right? Now let’s say that the flashlight’s light was colored neon yellow. And now let’s say that the flashlight flickered with each syllable that left Dizzy’s mouth.

Congratulations! You now know what Nancy had to witness at that moment.

Disoriented, Nancy blinked a couple of times to refocus her vision. Of course, she didn’t want to be rude, so she reinforced her smile before replying, “I’m sure you are. By the way, I like your outfit. The colors are very lovely.”

“Thank you!” Dizzy beamed (quite literally, in Nancy’s case). She spun around once, letting her dress-tutu flutter upwards as she did so. “This is my clown outfit, so it’s the most colorful. I have outfits specifically designed for each of my acts, but I like wearing this one the most! Oh, but I like your dress, too. It’s very pretty!” she added the last part quickly.

While that _would_ have made Nancy feel a little bit better about her attire concerns from earlier, she couldn’t entirely enjoy that relief right now. Not when there was a yellow strobe-light show going off with every rise and fall of Dizzy’s voice. In all her life, Nancy never had so much trouble fighting off a wince.

“Thank… you,” she eventually managed, voice slightly strained. It was a miracle that she was still maintaining a smile right now. “I made it myself.”

Dizzy’s eyebrows rose. “Ooh, really?” she asked, and then she smacked a hand to her forehead as she remembered, “Oh, that’s right, you’re a seamstress, aren’t you?”

“Only as… a hobby… but yes.”

 _Keep it together, Nancy. It’s not her fault that her voice looks like this. You’re the only one who can see it, so don’t hurt her feelings! **Please** don’t hurt her feelings…_ Nancy internally pleaded to herself.

Unfortunately, Nancy wasn’t as good at hiding her suffering as she thought, because Dizzy ended up tilting her head quizzically. “Uh… are you okay?” she asked, tone uncharacteristically worried.

Guilt immediately weighed down on Nancy’s chest, and she quickly waved both of her hands dismissively. “Ah—sorry! I’m sorry, I was just… lost in thought. It happens all the time, don’t worry.”

“O… kay, then,” Dizzy replied. She was clearly unconvinced, but didn’t want to mention it out of politeness.

Nancy avoided her gaze, looking down at the floor. “Yes, so… I suppose I’ll see you around, Dizzy. I hope we meet onstage one day.”

She actually didn’t, but the reason _why_ she didn’t was just so unfair. So, out of guilt, Nancy decided to say that instead of the truth. Because Dizzy seemed like a nice person, really! Even if her voice was irritatingly yellow and _literally_ bright.

Despite Nancy’s unusual behavior, Dizzy gave her another smile. “Yeah, same here. I mean, that’d be one weird episode, y'know, _considering,_ but it was nice to meet you, Nancy.”

Nancy nodded, returning her smile before turning to walk away. She tried her best to keep her pace relatively casual and _not_ hurried, which was pretty difficult due to the fact that she didn’t exactly have a destination in mind.

Dizzy watched her go, mouth skeptically pressed into a thin line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment or send an ask to {veeeffvee.tumblr.com} for whoever you want to see meet next!
> 
> https://veeeffvee.tumblr.com/post/625380657480204288/send-in-two-color-tv-characters-as-in-ive


	3. Christopher and Kennith

“Oh, hello there! You’re Christopher, aren’t you? Come on in!”

Just as Christopher had opened the door and poked his head in, a chipper voice greeted him with those words. 

_Ah, perfect. I somehow managed to find the right room in this absurdly enormous building,_ Christopher thought, relieved. Stepping inside the office, he closed the door behind him with a soft click. 

As he turned to face the source of the voice, the first thing he noted was the owner’s appearance. Although the TV host was sitting behind a desk with his hands folded, like some sort of professional, Christopher couldn’t help but notice his strange choice in clothing. He could only view the host’s upper half because he was sitting down, but just from what Christopher could see, the host’s outfit wasn’t professional at all. Was that some sort of vest? Why did it look like that? Why did it have a collar? And why did he wear it without a shirt underneath?

Clearing his throat in order to silence his rather interrogative thoughts, Christopher began, “Yes, well, I received your letter requesting to meet me here. You wanted to talk about featuring me on your television show, correct?”

The TV host nodded a few times. “Yup, thaaat’s right! I know I was pretty vague about it in my letter, but I wanted to chat with you in person about the details. Please, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the empty seats in front of his desk with a flourish.

Christopher did so, walking a short distance over to the chairs before taking a seat. Well, this didn’t seem too bad. Sure, this host may have an odd sense of fashion, and he was a bit too energetic for Christopher’s taste, but he seemed nice enough. Perhaps Christopher had jumped to conclusions far too quickly there.

Speaking of jumped, the TV host suddenly jolted in realization. “Oh, wait a minute! Did I leave my name in the letter? Ah geez, I don’t remember if I did. I may have signed it as ‘Host of COLOR-TV’ instead of my name. Sorry about that! It happens sometimes, haha.” He leaned forward, offering his hand with a wide grin.

“I’m Kennith Simmons. And let me just say: I am _so_ glad to have the chance to talk to you, Christopher!”

After blinking twice in surprise, Christopher reached out for the handshake. He tried to return a smile, albeit with much less enthusiasm; a more reasonable amount for himself. “Thank you. I’m flattered that you’d consider me as a guest star for your show,” he replied evenly. 

When Christopher had received the letter in the mail, he thought it was some sort of scam at first. He couldn’t imagine what he had done recently to warrant the attention of a television host. Although he tried to be fairly social, he was never interested in pursuing _this_ kind of attention. It was his least favorite kind, in fact. Also, he didn’t even have a TV.

And to be perfectly honest, he was caught off-guard by how eager Kennith was to speak to him. No one had ever shown _that_ much interest in talking to him, especially at first. That raised so many questions. Did Christopher’s reputation precede him? What kind of reputation did he have? Was it positive, in that case? And in what way?

As if reading his mind, Kennith briefly laughed. “Yeah, well, I can’t exactly pass up the possibility of having someone who can do _actual magic_ being on the show. Like, how many people can do _magic_ in this world? And it just so happens that you’re nearby, too! Just… _wow,_ you're so cool,” he marveled, his voice quieting to an amazed whisper right at the end.

Christopher had felt at ease after Kennith’s introduction, but that feeling quickly dampened at the mention of Christopher’s powers. His own friendly smile faltered slightly. “While I’m happy to hear that you’ve heard of my abilities, I’m sorry to say that I would prefer to not use them on live television.”

Kennith’s amazement promptly turned to confusion, bordering on disappointment as he frowned. “Huh? Why not? Haven’t you shown people your powers before?”

“Yes, but only for simple demonstrations. I can’t do something as grand as perform magic multiple times for an audience.”

“But according to what I’ve read about you, you use your magic multiple times a day on yourself. What’s the difference between that and performing?”

At the back of his mind, Christopher wondered, _There’s information available to read about me? Why didn’t I know about that? What exactly does it say?_

He wanted to demand the answers to these questions, but instead he insisted, “It’s completely different. When I use magic for myself, I take various precautionary measures. And I’m sure that these same precautions cannot be replicated on the set of your show.”

Kennith waved a hand dismissively. “Well, I disagree! I can build or get anything you need for your episode, I guarantee it. And I mean _anything._ So there should be nothing to worry about!”

Christopher fought back a scowl. Why was Kennith being so persistent? Couldn’t he take a hint? “Even so, there’s still the possibility of something going wrong, and I can’t leave that to chance.”

“But _why,_ though?” Kennith pressed, brow furrowed. “What’s so bad about using your magic? Why won’t you tell me?”

Christopher matched his expression, growing frustrated. “Does it really matter? It’s _my_ magic, and _you_ don’t understand the intricacies involved in using it. So you’ll just have to believe me when I say that it is a bad idea.”

“ _Believe_ you, huh?”

Kennith brought his folded hands up to rest below his chin contemplatively. Christopher noted how the pose was eerily similar to one that he himself did very often.

“You’re saying I should _believe_ you?” the host repeated, tone lilting.

That sounded dangerously close to being accusatory, which Christopher _definitely_ didn’t like. Was it possible that Kennith knew more about him than he thought? He narrowed his eyes. “Is there a problem? What are you trying to imply?” he challenged.

The two of them stared at each other for a while, falling silent. Christopher kept his expression guarded as Kennith studied him carefully. Seconds ticked by, slowly turning into some of the longest minutes that Christopher had ever endured.

Then, Kennith grinned, that chipper attitude from before returning incredibly fast. He barked out a laugh. “Hahaha! You sure are tense about something! I know I’m basically the boss of this place, but you don’t have to be so serious with me!”

Christopher didn’t say anything in response. He didn’t quite trust that switch in disposition just now. Also that cheery attitude was becoming annoying very quickly. He didn’t like annoying.

Seeing as Christopher wasn’t planning on replying, Kennith continued, “I just meant that since we just met, I don’t really… trust you, I guess?” _Ah, so the feeling was mutual._ “That’s fair to say, isn’t it? Like, don’t get me wrong, you obviously know more about your powers than I do. It’s just… I dunno…”

Kennith tilted his head to one side.

“…I think you’re kinda…”

Then he tilted his head to the other side.

“…hiding something? Just a hunch, though,” he said, looking at Christopher with wide, mock-innocent eyes.

Christopher was undeterred, however. If Kennith was going to be difficult about this, then fine. “Well, whether or not you choose to believe me, I’m not going to agree to use my magic on your show. I suppose that means I won’t be participating. So, if that’s all that you wanted to speak to me about, then I’ll be taking my leave.”

He moved to get up from his seat.

Just then, Kennith stood up, propping himself up with his arms, and splaying his hands out on the desk. “W-Wait!”

Christopher stopped, giving Kennith an expectant look.

(At the same time, it was then that Christopher noticed that Kennith was wearing a really weird pair of shorts. Hmm. Okay then. Also, why was Kennith ridiculously short? As in, _an entire foot shorter_ than Christopher? It ruined the tension of the moment on Christopher’s end, but he maintained his stern look regardless.)

Kennith forced himself to grin. “Okay, fine, you don’t have to do any magic. My second idea was to interview you about your magic, instead. And since you clearly don’t wanna talk about certain things, we can pick out which questions I’ll ask you in advance. I-If you want to, that is. Sound good?” he meekly offered.

Christopher hesitated. He considered the idea. A moment passed before he sat back down. “That’s… slightly more reasonable,” he eventually decided with a nod. 

Kennith’s eyes lit up. “So you’re on board, then?”

Christopher put on a neutral expression, averting his gaze. “As long as you’re willing to plan the episode out with me, I don’t see why not,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. And just to sell the look, he folded his arms. Perfect.

Despite his alleged disinterest, there was the unfortunate fact that Christopher didn’t really have anything better to do for the next few months. As much as he loathed to admit it, this would probably be the most entertaining thing that he would be doing for a while. Of course, he chose to omit that, for the sake of… himself, he supposed.

Kennith clapped his hands together excitedly. “Yaaay! I’m looking forward to working with you soon!” he cheered, plopping unceremoniously back down into his chair afterwards.

 _There’s that strange eagerness again,_ Christopher thought to himself, confused once more. Aloud, he asked, “Are you really that adamant about having me on your show? Surely you have other guests to choose from.”

Kennith nodded. “Yeah, I do, but you’re one of the more special ones; you actually have a title! So that naturally means you’re more important and interesting! Isn’t that right, _Distortionist?”_ he chirped.

Even though it was a testament to his ability as a magic user, Christopher grimaced at the moniker.

“Please just call me Christopher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment or send an ask to {veeeffvee.tumblr.com} for whoever you want to see meet next!
> 
> https://veeeffvee.tumblr.com/post/625380657480204288/send-in-two-color-tv-characters-as-in-ive


	4. Obsequious and Henry

“Hi, I’m Obsequious!”

Henry stared blankly at the hand stretched out to him. Then he glanced up at the girl it belonged to. Wow, that was such a weird way to introduce yourself. 

“Okay…?” was all that he could say to that.

The girl’s initial smile faltered upon seeing the confusion on Henry’s face. “Not a hand-shaker, huh? That’s okay!” she said breezily. She moved to fold her hands behind her back before asking, “What’s your name?”

“Uh… Henry. Elsner,” he added the last part as an awkward afterthought. “And yours?”

The girl blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Henry grew even more confused. How could you possibly misinterpret that? “I'm… I’m asking for your name.”

She blinked a couple more times. Then she suddenly burst out laughing as she understood. “Oh, I see! Guess you were a little confused there. My bad, I should have worded that better!” She put a hand on her chest as she clarified, “My _name_ is Obsequious. Sorry about the confusion!”

_Ohhh._

_That made… even less sense._

“Your _name_ is Obsequious?” Henry echoed. “That’s… unique. I’ve never heard a name like that before.”

Obsequious chuckled nervously, eyes darting off to the side. “Haha, yeah, well, truth be told…”

She mumbled something under her breath.

Henry blinked. Then he leaned forward, cupping a hand behind his ear. “Come again? Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Obsequious repeated herself, ever-so-slightly louder this time. However, even though Henry was closer in proximity to her than last time, he still couldn’t hear her.

Henry frowned. “Unless you don’t actually want to say it, you’re going to have to speak up—”

 _“It’s not my real name!”_ she finally blurted out.

A pause.

Obsequious had her hands clenched at her sides, and her eyes screwed shut. She looked like she was bracing for some huge reaction. Meanwhile, Henry just kinda… stood there. Was he supposed to be shocked or something?

He cleared his throat a few times, as if that would clear the air of this sudden tension. “That’s not… exactly a surprise…” he muttered, loud enough for Obsequious to hear.

Obsequious stared at him like that was newfound knowledge. “Huh? It’s not?”

Henry stared back at her in utter disbelief. He could hardly believe it. Did she really think that was such a drastic revelation?

"Wh— _no!_ No, of course not! How could—who would possibly name their child that? It’s not exactly a virtue like ‘Faith,’ or 'Hope.’ In fact, I don’t even think it has a good connotation!“ he exclaimed. "If I recall, I believe obsequious means something along the lines of, 'overly subservient for the sake of self-gain.’ Now, I may be wrong, but I’m pretty sure no one would want their child to have a name with such a selfish definition.”

There he goes, shifting into Writer Mode™ again. If only Nancy were there to stop him. Any other day, Henry regarded himself as a very quiet and somewhat timid person, but that changed whenever the subject of mere _words_ came into a conversation. As much as he tried to be as reserved as possible, he just couldn’t help himself from launching into a whole tirade about word choice and nuance whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Actually, wait. Maybe it was for the best that Nancy wasn’t here, considering the fact that the reason that Henry was here was to find a way to get even further away from her. Right, there was that. That was the whole point of this. That was why he planned to appear on a live TV show, despite wanting to change his identity afterwards. That was why he reluctantly agreed to introduce himself to a bunch of cast members that he would likely never see again after his episode. That was why he was currently talking to a sycophant named ‘Obsequious’ right now. Right, right, right…

“Oh.”

Speaking of which, that same people-pleaser’s voice happened to snap Henry out of his thoughts. He brought his attention back to her.

She looked, for lack of a better word, _dejected._

“There’s nothing good about wanting to help others?” she asked, woodenly. “I know what it actually means, but is there really nothing good about that word at all? What’s wrong with wanting to help? I just want to help people and make them happy. That’s why I call myself that.”

_Oh god. Oh no._

Henry put his hands up in a placating gesture. “A-And that’s perfectly fine, don’t get me wrong!” he hurriedly amended. “It’s just that reducing yourself to a single personality trait isn’t a good idea. It’s actually a little… um… dehumanizing. Which isn’t good at all. I’m sure there’s more to you than that.”

Obsequious peered at him, clearly uncertain. “You really think so?” she asked, the tiniest hint of hope in her voice.

Judging by her tone, this question had more to do than just hearing some stranger’s opinion. It had far more weight than asking for someone’s mere approval. And boy did the prospect of bearing that responsibility make Henry want to curl up in a corner and scream incomprehensibly in fear for hours. Hmm, that sounded like a good idea. He made a mental note to do that later, just for the sake of catharsis.

“…Y-Yes…?” Henry asked in turn, rather than answered.

What was he saying? He didn’t know this girl at all! He was just trying to say whatever would make her feel better, because _wow,_ he probably overstepped a line just now. Right into no-man’s-land. Directly onto a land mine. This couldn’t have possibly gone any worse. And so here he was, saying anything that would comfort this complete stranger’s feelings.

 _Goodness me,_ Henry thought glumly. _Who’s the sycophant now?_

And then something unexpected happened.

Like a switch was flipped, Obsequious instantaneously perked up with a bright smile on her face. “Okay! If you say so!” she said in a singsong voice.

Before Henry could say anything else, Obsequious turned on her heel and started practically _skipping_ away. Humming a tuneless song to herself, she made her way to the next cast member as if nothing had ever happened.

Meanwhile, Henry was left standing there, wondering himself if that encounter had actually occurred or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment or send an ask to {veeeffvee.tumblr.com} for whoever you want to see meet next!
> 
> https://veeeffvee.tumblr.com/post/625380657480204288/send-in-two-color-tv-characters-as-in-ive


End file.
